


Anything But "On The Road Again"

by Feelysonheelys



Category: Mystery Science Theater 3000
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, MST3K Live, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Character Tags to be Added - Freeform, Road Trips, Watch Out For Snakes Tour, it's just that this show is odd, it's not crack i promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2018-12-25 23:06:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12046188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feelysonheelys/pseuds/Feelysonheelys
Summary: Jonah didn't expect to be back on Earth so soon, but he's not one to complain. After all, there are plenty of other things he could find to complain about; there was the fact that he was living under surveillance in a tour bus for the foreseeable future, the fact that the experiments had become almost nightly instead of weekly, and the lack of sleep that comes with a restricted space, a bad driver, and unusual traveling companions. Captives can't be choosers, I suppose.An episodic, hijinks-filled look at what really happened on the Watch Out For Snakes tour.





	1. Chapter 1

Jonah Heston had often been told he was a quick learner. He would generally been inclined to agree; if he was in a new situation, he was quick to orient himself and pick up the necessary skills to adapt to his surroundings, finding routines that worked for him.

However, he reflected as a sudden jolt of movement pulled him out of sleep and a couple inches into the air, he really wished that someone would give him a little notice before being thrown into said situations.

“Whoa! Now _that_ was some air!”

From the moment Jonah opened his eyes, his brain was scrambling to put pieces together. His first observation, naturally, was that he had just been tossed in the air momentarily before slamming back down onto what felt vaguely like a bed. He had felt weightless, but considering that he had fallen back down, it was unlikely to be a result of the satellite’s gravity malfunctioning. Had they hit something in space?

Secondly, while he wasn’t wearing his glasses, it was clear that he was not in his bedroom. While he was on a soft surface, the texture was wrong, the ceiling was too low, and the colors around him were all wrong. It seemed most likely that, for whatever reason, he had been brought to a part of the satellite that he was yet to explore.

Third, and perhaps most pressing, Crow was now looming over him, his beak dangerously close to Jonah’s face.

“We need to run over more stuff, I bet we can do better than that!”

Jonah didn’t think it made sense to be able to “run over” something in orbit, but he added that to the jumbled list of information his brain was trying to pin to a reasonable explanation.

“Crow! He’s awake, give him some space!”

Jonah pulled himself into a sitting position at the sound of what was unmistakably Gypsum’s voice. His sight was still a little hazy, but it looked like she was approaching from ground level, as opposed to dropping from the ceiling. What was she doing down here?

Crow moved out of Jonah’s way, only to be immediately replaced by Gypsum herself, her face only inches away from Jonah’s own. Her mouth hung open, and it took Jonah a couple second to realize why.

“Oh! That’s where my glasses went,” Jonah said, picking the frames up from their place in the purple robot’s mouth. Wiping off any smudges with his jumpsuit, he brought the glasses to his face and finally got a clear view of his surroundings.

Consequently, his brain proceeded to throw its collected information into the air like confetti.

“Guys?”

Gypsum, Crow, and Servo all responded. “Yeah?”

“...Are we on a bus?”

Before anyone could answer, all four were thrown forward slightly as the vehicle came to a sudden brief halt.

“Sorry about that,” a muffled voice could be heard. “Trying to avoid another squirrel. Oh, and it looks like the boss is calling.”

Yes, the circumstances told Jonah, this is a bus, or some sort of more mobile spacecraft, like the van Kinga’s grandmother drives. It’s far less common to hit a lunar squirrel in a regular orbit than an active vehicle. Though, to be fair, the decidedly _not_ satelite shaped vehicle seemed closer to an RV than a van. It wasn’t a place of luxury, but a cursory glance indicated that the bus had everything one might need to live comfortably- Beds, a bathroom, a tiny kitchenette - as well as a large wall-mounted monitor with three fun-sized variants of the familiar buttons from the S.O.L.’s bridge. Just as the driver had indicated (Jonah could see a pair of bones sticking up over the driver’s seat; one of Kinga’s boneheads, naturally), the yellow light was flashing.

Jonah groaned and rubbed his neck as he dragged himself out of bed, pushing the button and subsequently flopping into an adjacent chair.

“You could have asked one of us to do that for you,” Gypsum said to Jonah as Kinga and Max appeared onscreen.

“I mean, we wouldn’t have done it,” Crow added, “But you could have asked.”

Jonah didn’t respond to the bots, turning his full attention to the mads on the monitor.

“You sure do like dropping me places with no explanation, don’t you?”

“It was the most practical solution,” Kinga steepled her fingers. “We couldn’t run the risk of you muddling up the transportation process by trying to break out or anything, so we introduced chloroform into your oxygen supply before the flight.”

“And we still managed to be less brutal and invasive than the average airport experience,” Max nodded. “Should we do this for an invention exchange? I feel like a trip through the TSA might be easier if those involved were unconscious.”

“Flight?” Jonah rubbed his head. “Look, I would really appreciate some context on this. I don’t know what time it is, and it looks pretty light outside, but it’s still too early for-”

Outside?

Jonah jumped to his feet and pressed his face against the nearest window. Miles of highway stretched out beneath a relatively cloudless sky. A square blue sign stood in the grass, promising a Shoney’s at the next exit off of Interstate 695 and indicating the distance from the next Shell station.

If Jonah’s brain had felt fried before, it was now crispy enough to be served on a stick at a county fair.  

“We… we’re on Earth,” he said breathlessly. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face as a laugh escaped him. “We’re on Earth!”

“Brilliant detective work, Heston,” Kinga snarked. “Now get your face out of the window. There will be plenty of time to act like an excited labrador in the next few weeks.”

Jonah ambled back to his seat, only stumbling a little as the bus swerved and the driver mumbled something about possums.

“So,” Jonah said as he settled down, “Is this the part where you give me some idea as to what’s going on?”

“Yeah,” Servo added, hovering over to perch on the back of Jonah’s chair, Crow following behind. “I didn’t think you were the type to give us vacations.”

“Do we get to go to Epcot?” Crow chirped hopefully.

Kinga smiled, a surefire way to tell that somewhere in the world a kitten was crying.

“Oh, there will be no visits to the tourist mousetrap on this trip,” she grinned. “As a matter of fact, I will have you lab rats working harder than ever before.”

“Oh yes, there will be no breaks for you, guinea pigs,” Max added, looking quite pleased with himself. “You know, because… guinea pigs. What, with the lab rats… mousetrap…”

The subsequent glare Kinga gave him was sharp enough to cut a poorly constructed metaphor in half.

“I… I think I should go, uh, do something… over there…”

Max shuffled away with his head hung low. Kinga turned her attention back to Jonah and the bots.

“You see,” she explained, “After the relative success of our first new Netflix season, I figured we had enough resources and fan support to go on a little promotional venture.”

“I thought you wanted to get started on the next batch of experiments for the new season,” Crow said.

“Yeah, and aren’t we going to explain to everyone how I survived after the wedding incident?” Jonah asked. “I mean, I thought it was pretty clever.”

“Yeah,” Tom agreed. “Looking back on the weeks leading up to it, there was a lot of natural foreshadowing and subtle hints as to how--”

“Of course not!” Kinga dismissed them with a wave of her hand. “If Netflix is ever going to sign us on for a new season, there’s one thing we need: an outcry of fan demand. The way I see it, there are two vital ways to drum that up; one, finish on a cliffhanger and refuse to address it until the show is renewed, and two…” She flashed another grin. “Go on tour.”

Jonah blinked. “Tour?”

“We have a band now?” Crow’s voice was high with excitement. “Do I have groupies?”

“A live experiment tour, to be more exact,” Kinga clarified, stepping toward a whiteboard with a large map of the United States being pulled in by a pair of Boneheads. “We have an itinerary of twenty-six venues across the country. At each show, we will be conducting an experiment for a live audience of loyal fans, spreading brand name awareness and selling crates of merchandise.”

Gypsum slithered up to the screen, her tubes thumping against the ground in excitement. “Does this mean I get to make my official stage debut?”

“Imagine it, Gyps!” Tom hovered over join her. “Nothing but the orchestra pit coming between us and hordes of screaming fans! We’ve made the big time, baby!”

Crow joined his fellow bots in gushing about their ‘big break’, but Jonah remained seated, shellshocked. “So this means…”

  
“Oh, that’s right, Heston,” Kinga purred. “Enter the nightmare-fueled world of _a six week road trip.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bear with me on this one, folks. This is gonna be a long ride, and I brought a CD of obnoxious travel songs.
> 
> If you see anything I overlooked, or have anything or nothing to say at all, don't feel shy. I promise I won't beg for comments, but it's motivating.


	2. Roam If You Want To

Once the video feed cut out, a minute or two passed before there was stirring from the drivers’ compartment. Jonah’s eyes went to the passenger’s seat as a figure he hadn’t noticed before got out of her seat and turned around.

“Are they done?” Synthia asked. “We’re good?”

The bots’ conversation had died down by this point, and they seemed to acknowledge Synthia’s presence.

“Yeah, we’re good,” Crow nodded as well as one with a head not designed to nod could.

Synthia clapped her hands together. “Alright, so we’ve got the basic explanation out of the way. No better time to break the ice.”

Her arm jutted out for a handshake, which Jonah tentatively obliged. “We’ve kind of met before,” he said, releasing her hand. “Synthia, right?”

“Right,” she gave a short, concise nod before her hand returned to her side. “Terry and I will be your detainers on this tour.”

“Terry?”

The Bonehead in the driver’s seat rose slightly and turned his head.

“I have an identity outside of my job!” he called, less an assertion and more a cheerful declaration.

Synthia smiled. “Please drive.”

Terry gave a thumbs up before sitting down. “Can do!”

“But yes, we’re going to be chaperoning this trip,” Synthia continued. “This bus is equipped with a hidden camera system and motion detectors to ensure that any ensuing shenanigans don’t get out of hand.”

“Or that any test subjects get out of bus,” Terry added.

“Right,” Synthia nodded. “If you all behave, we’ll keep the camera use to a minimum.”

“We can manage,” Gypsum said. “We’re used to Cambot unexpectedly recording us at candid moments.”

“They caught me showering once,” Servo shuddered.

Something suddenly occurred to Jonah. “Where _is_ Cambot? They’re here too, right?”

“I’d hope not,” Crow said. “That guy gets crazy motion sickness. None of us would be able to enjoy this.”

“I don’t know if ‘enjoy’ is really the first word most people would use to describe a traveling hostage situation,” Gypsum commented.

Crow scowled. “Not with that attitude, it isn’t!”

Jonah’s eyes widened. “You mean you guys don’t _know?_ You didn’t get chloroformed for the transportation process, you don’t even breathe! Did we or didn’t we abandon Cambot in space?”

“Technically, neither,” Synthia replied. “Her she-vilness didn’t want an official filmed copy of the show;  she says the amount of online bootlegs is a popularity gauge. Since we didn’t need a camera-person, we gave them the choice to go or not.”

Servo gave a quick _hmph_ of indignation. “That ship-jumping turncoat.”

“As for the bit about the chloroform…” Synthia gave the bots a pointed look. “Care to explain?”

Crow fiddled with his claws, his eyes avoiding contact with any other gaze in the room. Servo gave an awkward cough.

“Weeeell, we kind of didn’t know what to do when you fell over,” Servo began, “And we may have panicked a little bit.”

“I attempted CPR!” Gypsum announced.

“Eventually we all started enacting our own deaths,” Crow admitted. “Mine was really tragic. I went to the fridge for the ketchup bottle to amp up the gore factor and everything, but _someone_ took it before I could use it.”

A hum came from Gypsum’s mouth. “You know how hard it is to get the stains off your paint job. We don’t even have blood, anyway.”

“All the more reason to use ketchup!”

Jonah pushed up his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. “So when I passed out, your first course of action was to activate your sleep modes… and fake your own deaths.”

“I-”

“I know you tried CPR, Gypsum. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Cambot helped the Boneheads pack your belongings,” Synthia went on. “Whatever you don’t find around here is either stored in cargo with the setpieces or back in space.

The clone gave Servo an unreadable look. “And Tom, I should let you know that your we did bring your Top Secret Box with us, so you should have no reservations about the-”

“ _Hey!”_ Servo shouted, his voice high and strained before he clamped his mouth shut and spoke as if through gritted teeth. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about and you will _not_ say anything more on the matter _or so help me._ ”

Jonah scratched his head. “I’m not sure I want to know.”

“I do!” Crow’s arm shot into the air.

Synthia shrugged. “Not my problem. Anyway, we’ve got several hours before the first show, so rest up or do whatever it is that you need to do. We’ll be keeping a close eye on you, so don’t try anything, understand?”

“Hey Synthia!” Terry called from the front. “There’s a great roadside distraction up ahead, wanna see?”

Synthia was back in her seat within seconds. “Do I ever!”

The bus sped onward, and the company in the back were left to their own devices.

 

* * *

 

An hour had passed since the brief debriefing, and Jonah had been relatively quiet. He stared out at the unchanging highway, no doubt processing all of the information that had been dumped on him. The human brain was funny like that. The piece of meat would eventually soak up the circumstances, but it would take a while to marinate before any action could be taken.

The mechanical mind, Servo reflected, was much sharper. He’d gained his bearings fairly quickly, and the steps of an escape plan were already coming together. He had all the necessary materials to carry it out, and if all went well--and it _would_ \--the lot of them would be free of the clutches of the Forrester family once and for all.

Phase one. Servo turned his head, making sure their captors were occupied. Synthia had a large book of crosswords in her lap, and the Bonehead was focused on the road, happily humming along to “Life is a Highway”. Perfect.

Phase two.

“Hey Jonah?”

“Hm?”

“Could you open the window a little?”

“Sure.”

Jonah pulled the latch on the window, opening it just a crack.

“A little more?”

Halfway open.

“Little more.”

All the way. Perfect.

Phase three. Time to really put this calculated master plan into action.

_Woosh!_

“Wait!”

“Tommy!”

“Oh my God!”

“Sweet freedo-”

_CRACK._

 

* * *

 

Jonah wiped the sweat off his brow and exhaled sharply.

“God, I hope this works.”

The tour bus was parked alongside the highway, emergency lights on as all of its inhabitants inside crowded around a little red robot, Gypsum creating a wide circle around Jonah and Servo to give the Gizmocrat the necessary space to work. Terry had fetched the “robot First-Aid kit” (a glorified toolbox) from the bus's trailer, and Jonah was tasked with carefully reassembling his friend and repairing the broken pieces.

“Shouldn’t one of you be doing this?” Terry leaned over and softly asked Crow. “Since you’re robots and all? Wouldn’t you know what to do?”

Crow rolled his eyes to the best of his ability. “Shouldn’t Synthia know how to perform surgery and map the human genome since she’s a clone? Shouldn’t Jonah know how to make sausages since he’s a huge weenie?”

“Hey!”

“Keep working, weenie boy.”

Jonah grumbled, but made no argument as he set the newly repaired bot upright. After making sure there were no loose parts, he toyed with the buttons on Servo’s chest panel and scooted back to give him some room.

A faint sigh of relief lingered in the air when Tom Servo began to stir.

“Di’it work?” he asked sleepily. “I feel weeeeeird…”

“Red one,” Synthia said with the calm, collected tone of someone who was two seconds from snapping and burning down an orphanage, “Would you mind explaining why you decided to jump out of the window of a vehicle moving at least 70 miles per hour?”

“Wha’s Pearl doing here?” Servo slurred. “And why are there threeee of her?”

Jonah stood up, his lips pursing in concern. “He’s probably gonna be a little loopy for a while, but he should be okay in half an hour or so.”

“His voice sounds kinda different,” Crow took a few tentative steps toward his friend. “You sure he’s gonna be okay?”

“Positive,” Jonah nodded.

“That’s good,” Crow said, and proceeded to pull his arm back and slap Servo square across his globe.

“Whoa!” Servo’s head spun around once before he got his bearings. “Whazzat for?”

Gypsum had swiftly wrapped her coils around the two bots; Servo for comfort, Crow to restrain him from striking again.

“Just trying to ‘scape,” Servo mumbled.

“Oh no you don’t,” Crow struggled against his restraints, “There is no way you are escaping into the sweet embrace of death without us!”

“I hope you’ll see this as a lesson,” Synthia gave the group a cold stare. “You won’t get another chance to escape. We’ll make sure to increase our surveillance, and you’ve lost your window control privileges.”

With that, Synthia and Terry returned to their seats, and the engine roared back into action. As the bus pulled back onto the road, Jonah could hear the opening bars of “Life is a Highway” for what may have been the seventeenth time in a row.

“I’m going to ask Abercrombie and Fitch if we can change the music selection,” he said to no one in particular, seeing as Gypsum was still trying to contain Crow while Servo was seemingly enamored by the brightness of Gypsum’s eye light.

“...already tried to break out. No, the little red one, he fell out the window.”

Jonah peeked over into the driver’s compartment, trying to avoid drawing attention to his presence. He didn’t know what he would have to gain from listening in to Synthia’s phone conversation, but if she was telling Kinga anything important--and he was almost certain she was talking to Kinga--it couldn’t hurt to know a little more about the situation.

“We’ll make sure the major security functions are on to their fullest ability, Kinga,” she affirmed. “I’m just hoping this doesn’t mean they’ll be trying stuff like this every day. If they’re already making escape plans now, I am _not_ looking forward to picking up the other one.”

Jonah blinked, his brow furrowing. _Other one?_

Synthia sighed. “If you say so. Oh well. I’ll talk to you later. I have familial affection for you. Bye.”

She stuck the phone back in her pocket, picking up her crossword book. Jonah didn’t move.

“Hey Jonah,” Gypsum called out. “Any specific reason you’re staring off into space?”

Jonah shook his head, turning back to the bots. “I...I’m not sure,” he shrugged. “It’s been a long day.”

“Go get some rest,” she gestured back to the bunk where Jonah had woken up. “You’re gonna need it for the show tonight.”

Wordlessly, Jonah made his way to the bed, removed his glasses, and collapsed. If the past few hours were any indication, this was going to be a very long, very confusing trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Stop: Shubert Theater, Boston.


	3. Cool the Engines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did a little research and found out what the actual MST3K Tour Bus looks like, and because I am way too obsessed with accuracy for a show that explicitly tells you not to sweat the small stuff, I’ll be adjusting the description on the vehicle as necessary. I don’t know much about the interior, and I’ve never been in anything fancier than an RV, so bear with me if it doesn’t seem accurate. Also, minor details from the live show will probably differ from reality. But you don't care about that.

Being the height he was, Jonah was no stranger to uncomfortable sleeping situations. As such, his nap in the tiny bunk was nothing unfamiliar, though it didn’t mean he didn’t bump his head on the bunk above him when he awoke.

“Hey!” A voice above him yelped, followed by a familiar gold beak poking into Jonah’s field of view from above. “Watch it, I’m trying to sleep!”

“Don’t be so loud,” Servo groaned from his supine position on the opposite upper bunk. “We all need our beauty sleep before going onstage. Some more than others, right Jonah?”

“Yeah, I...Hey!”

“Are you guys all awake?” Gypsum slithered in. “Pretty good timing. Synthia just sent me back here to get you guys. And Tom, how have you not rolled off the bed yet?”

Servo righted himself. “Pure skill, baby.”

“He fell off twice,” Crow said, jumping off the bed.

Servo scoffed as he hovered down. “I caught myself both times!” 

“That isn’t even your bed,” Synthia said as she entered. “That one’s mine. Yours is over there.” She pointed to an open crate stuffed with a pillow and lined with towels.

“Sweet!” Servo zoomed over to the box. “Check out the thread count on these things! Luxurious.”

“We’re stopped in a parking lot behind the Shubert Theater,” Synthia exposited, beckoning for the group to exit the compartment. “I need to make sure everything’s being unloaded, then we’ll get food. Us organic beings need sustenance.”

She turned and strolled to the exit in her usual manner, only walking into the closed door for six seconds before Jonah followed and pulled on the opening mechanism.

“I hope you realize that we’re not going to be the best roadies,” Servo said as he floated down the steps after them, following Synthia’s lead to the hitched trailer. “Only a couple of us have fully functional arms.”

“We’re not expecting you to do any heavy lifting,” Synthia dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “Our road crew will take care of it.”

Terry produced a pull-out ramp from the open trailer and stepped inside. When he reemerged, he was pulling along a large black chest on a dolly, and was followed by two more Boneheads, hauling a model of the console from the Satellite of Love’s bridge.

Crow’s mouth dropped open. “My God, he’s _multiplying_!”

“It wouldn’t make sense to waste resources by _not_ keeping the rest of our crewmen in suspended animation,” Synthia explained as more Skeleton Crewmembers poured out as if from a clown car. “Honestly it’s just common sense. In the meantime, there’s a burger place just down the block, and it might be a good idea to get--” She checked the time on her phone. “Lunch. Still technically lunch.”

Crow shot her an incredulous look. “You mean we’re going to _walk_?”

“Ahem,” Servo mocked clearing his throat, “ _Some_ of us are going to walk. Others will fly in style.”

Gypsum only sighed. “Just gimme a second to coil some of my body into a scarf. I’m not dragging all this.”

Jonah rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, Synthia, don’t you think this will look kinda… conspicuous?”

Synthia stared at him blankly. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

Jonah shrugged, figuring it wasn’t worth the trouble. “Fine. Lead on.”

The group hadn’t even reached the edge of the parking lot before they were met by a small boy with wide eyes.

“Are you guys a band?” the child asked.

“Yes,” Crow answered.

“What’s your band name?”

Jonah and the bots all answered at the same time.

“Tommy and the Servettes.”

“Snyder’s of Hanover.”

“The Shins.”

“The Basehearts.”

The kid unwrapped a piece of bubblegum and popped it into his mouth. “Cool.”

  


* * *

 

Three robots, a clone of a mad scientist, and a man in an industrial jumpsuit all walk into a Five Guys restaurant. The perfect setup for some brilliant punchline that probably wasn’t coming. Nevertheless, Jonah reflected as he squeezed his legs under the table, the current state of his life was still a joke. 

“Crow,” he said flatly, “Stop throwing your peanut shells away in Tom’s head.”

The golden robot turned to Jonah, his hand hovering over Servo’s head, ready to deposit a nutshell. “I am not!”

Gypsum sighed and poked an empty paper tray toward the boys. “Do you want to be the one holding him upside-down to shake all the trash out?”

“I’m not using Servo as a trash can!” Crow fumed. “These are _whole_ peanuts, see? I’m using him for storage!”

“We’re going to need backup food for the road,” Servo agreed. “As long as these people are giving out free stuff, we should accept their hospitality by abusing the system.”

“Or we could store those extra peanuts in a to-go box,” Jonah pointed out.

Gypsum slid out of her chair. “I’ll go grab one.”

Jonah sighed, shaking his head. “You think you’re prepared to handle these guys?” he turned to Synthia.

Synthia’s attention was elsewhere. Her steely eyes were focused on something outside, and her gaze was like that of a predator on the hunt.

“Someone is walking their dog outside.”

“...What?”

Her gaze shot over to meet Jonah’s. “There is a small dog out there. I have to pet it.”

Jonah blinked, perplexed. “You can’t just… what?”

Synthia’s glare only sharpened. “I have lived on Moon 13 my whole life. I have never touched a dog.”

She pushed herself out of her chair, standing over the three seated forms, and her entire person radiated with the pure, wild determination of her lineage.

Synthia’s voice was full of self-righteous authority. “I am going to Pet. That. Dog.”

Without so much as another word, she walked out the door to stop the confused owner of a pomeranian. The idea of escaping never even occurred to Jonah.

 

* * *

 

“How much longer now?” Crow asked, his right leg bouncing in his backstage folding chair.  

“Shouldn’t be long,” Jonah whispered, holding a cautious hand between his face and head-mounted microphone (he had been told it was off, but it didn’t hurt to be careful,) peering onto the stage. “They’ve got some guy in a gray suit introducing the Mads. He just exited stage right, and yep, there’s Laurel and Hardy on the theater screen.”

“How long are they gonna drag this out?” Servo groaned, throwing his back against his chair and draping an arm over his fore-dome in an act of dramatics. “People didn’t come here to see people on a screen, they came to see people talking at people on a screen!”

Jonah turned away from the stage and put a hand on each bot’s shoulder “Hey, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you two were starting to get a little anxious.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Crow objected. “We’ve been recorded for TV for years, there’s nothing this could throw at us that we can’t handle!”

He turned his back for a total of twelve seconds before abruptly swiveling around and dragging Jonah down to eye level by his collar.

“Is my net straight? What if they laugh at me? What if they _don’t_ laugh at me? Oh God, I’m not even wearing pants!”

“Whoa, hey, hey!” Jonah put an arm on Crow’s shoulder. “Breathe with me, alright? In… out. In… out. In-”

“We don’t actually breathe, Jonah,” Servo pointed out.

Crow shook his head. “No, no, this is helping.”

“Shush, shh!” Servo whisper-yelled. “I think they’re about to start the theme song!”

The trio were instantly silenced by this revelation, turning their attention toward the main stage where Max could be heard encouraging the crowd to sing along.

Even with the cheering crowd, Jonah couldn’t help an involuntary flinch at the opening notes, his nervous system having permanently associated the tune with being repeatedly abducted and dropped into Moon 13 for the show’s opening. Once the initial panic wore off, however, he was surprised to find himself entranced in the moment.

“It’s almost our cue!” Servo’s arms flailed with excitement. “Crow, you’re supposed to be on the other side of the stage!”

“Ah, shoot!”

Jonah watched as Crow sprinted out of view, paying no attention to any Boneheads or stagehands he was knocking out of his way.

Servo peeked through the curtain to the opposite side of the stage, Jonah peering behind him. “He made it!” Servo whispered just as the audience finished hollering the Robot Roll Call. “Get ready!”

Seconds before his cue to run onstage, Jonah felt a light tap on his shoulder. He turned his head to see the gray-suited man who had been giving the onstage introduction. He was a sleepy-eyed man with graying hair and glasses, and Jonah couldn’t help but feel that he’d seen him before, or that there was something familiar about him.

The man gave him a warm smile. “Good luck out there.”

Jonah didn’t have any time to process where he recognized his voice from. It was showtime. He rushed forward, Servo trailing behind.

_“...for MYSTERY SCIENCE THEATER 3000!”_

The words from the audience exploded into excited screams as soon as Jonah stepped into the light flooding the stage. Jonah blinked rapidly, blinded by the sudden brightness. Once his eyes adjusted, he gazed out onto a sea of people, young and old, cheering their lungs out. Some were dressed in dorky t-shirts spouting catchphrases from past seasons, some even bearing references to the more recent experiments. He spotted a number of colored jumpsuits in the crowd, and even a few replica bots sitting in laps.

It was a breathtaking moment. In this moment, he was not Jonah Heston, backjack pilot, prisoner of Kinga Forrester, test subject. He was Jonah Heston, star of Mystery Science Theater 3000. And he was completely comfortable with this.

In hindsight, he couldn’t be sure if this was a good thing or a warning sign. But in the moment, it couldn’t be anything but the right thing.


	4. Hitch a Ride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After my lovely beta reader pointed something out in this chapter, and I couldn't come up with a natural way to introduce it into the chapter, I decided to take the lazy route and explain in the author's note because I live by my own rules. In this canon, the bots' living situation on Earth was sort of a weekend/weekday dad situation, swapping between Joel and Mike's living spaces. ("Gee Crow, how come your mom lets you have TWO houses?")

* * *

 

Time seemed to flow differently up on the stage. The segments outside of the theater-within-a-theater seemed to pass by in an instant, but the movie was just as much of a drag as ever. As such, making it to the halfway point of the show simultaneously felt like a 100-yard dash and a triathlon. 

Still, the audience’s energy never seemed to waver, even in the film’s duller moments, and the tangible enthusiasm transferred into those onstage. As Jonah and the bots left the theater-within-a-theater for the intermission, they couldn’t help but feel like they were on top of the world as they headed for the refreshments table.

Unfortunately, the world does not always take kindly to those who try to put themselves above it, and it is at times like these that fate tends to throw a curveball.

Jonah caught sight of the sleepy-eyed gentleman engrossed in conversation with Gypsum, bracing himself against the snack table to stand against the weight of her crushing hug. He seemed to be attempting to reciprocate the gesture, lightly wrapping an arm around her head as they chatted. While it was true that Jonah had never seen Gypsum so physically clingy with anyone, he didn’t think much of it until he noticed Crow and Servo had stopped in their tracks, mouths agape.

The jumpsuit-clad man blinked. “Am I missing something here?”

Servo zoomed forward at a speed that seemed to take the older man by surprise, but not enough that he had no time to catch the excited robot. He and Gypsum released their grips on each other just in time for Tom Servo to barrel into his arms.

The man smiled, not appearing too off-put by the impact. “Well, hello to you too, Tom Servo.”

“Joel!” Servo exclaimed, happily nestled in the crook of an arm. “Joel, did you see me out there? How did you get backstage? Do you like my new voice? Do the Mads know you’re here? Have you been kidnapped and forced to perform for the amusement of crowds? Is Mike here? How have you been coping with our tragic absence? Did you get a haircut?”

“Slow down, bud,” Joel chuckled. “I don’t know where to start with all those options. I have gotten a haircut in the past six months, I guess I can start there.”

__"Joel? ” Jonah froze, his eyes were wide. “ _You're_  Joel? Joel Robinson?”

Servo turned his head. “What, did you think he’d be wearing a jumpsuit?”

“I--”

“He does own other clothes, Jonah.”

Joel shrugged. “That’s debatable. Of course, I’m not normally one for formal wear, but I was told I needed to wear something nice. I packed more casual wear for day to day stuff.”

Servo gasped, and Jonah’s eyebrows shot up.

“Packed?”

Joel replicated the quiet smile that Jonah had seen when the man had spoken to him before the show; sly, knowing, but not malicious. 

“He’s coming with us!” Gypsum squealed, her coils on the ground swishing with glee. “He’s the opener! Since everybody knows him from the old experiments, Kinga got him to come with us so we can draw in old fans!”

Servo made a sound similar to an intake of breath through gritted teeth. “You’re two for two on getting kidnapped by crazy scientists. That’s gotta bite.”

“Except this time, the scientists are the ones in space,” Crow joined in. “How the tables have turned.”

“Hey Crow, what’re you still doing over there?” Servo asked. “Get over here!”

For a moment, Crow hesitated, stepping closer behind Jonah with clasped hands. His eyes shifted back and forth.

“Well,” he took a step forward, fake confidence in his voice, “Some of us have a little more dignity.”

Servo scoffed. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me. This again.”

“I’m serious!” Crow turned up his beak. “Not all of us are huge crybabies. I mean, it’s only been a few months, we’ve gone longer without seeing each other.”

“That’s perfectly fine, Crow,” Joel affirmed. “You do you. It’s been a quiet few months, but you’re right, we’ve been through worse.”

“Yeah,” Crow added, taking another step forward, his eyes darting between Jonah and the rest of his family.

“And it’s not like we’ve been completely cut off, Kinga’s been sending your mail up and Mike and I can turn on Netflix when we’re missing your voices.”

“Uh-huh.” The lower half of Crow’s bowling pin began to wobble.

“Oh!” Joel exclaimed. “I just remembered. The Boneheads brought my stuff to the bus, but Mike and I packed some things from your rooms that I think you might want. I tried not to root through any personal stuff, but given that you didn’t really get time to pack at Mike’s or grab stuff from my house when you got snatched, I figured that--”

Crow flung himself forward, sobbing. “Oh, I can’t do this! I missed you, Dad!”

Joel freed and extended an arm to bring the golden robot in for a hug. Crow dove into the gesture, sniffling as he buried his face in the gray suit jacket. Joel held the bots close, Gypsum resting her head on his shoulder. 

Jonah took a tentative step forward, his hands clasped behind his back as he approached. His head was bowed somewhat sheepishly, and the ghost of what may have been a word stumbled from his mouth.

“Sorry for putting you on the spot like this,” Joel tried to ease his successor’s discomfort. “Let’s try this again. Hey, I’m Joel Robinson. Thanks for putting up with these guys.”

Jonah mumbled something, his face turning a little pink.

“Care to run that by us again?” Gypsum prompted.

Jonah finally mustered up the courage to pull his gaze off the floor. His eyes were full of wonder.

“...Can I get your autograph?”

 

* * *

The second half of the show had continued with the pace and energy of the first: slow enough that it seemed like an eternity, but by the finale it felt as though it had passed in the blink of an eye. After the show came the VIP experience, in which audience member who had forked over enough cash were able to take photos and chat with the cast. It was a flattering experience, and by the time the last excitable MSTie left the theater giggling, Jonah was sure the the warm glow he exuded could be viewed from the Satellite.

“So what kind of stuff did you bring us?” Crow bubbled, trailing behind Joel as they strolled behind Synthia through the parking lot.

“I’d prefer to unpack in the morning,” Joel said, stifling a yawn. “I’m going to guess you guys have had a pretty long day too.”

“Well, we were unconscious for a chunk of it,” Servo mentioned as Synthia pushed the bus door open. “But I think this has qualified as emotionally exhausting.”

Synthia rubbed at her eye makeup as she stepped inside. “I’m inclined to agree.”

The group made a beeline for the bunk room, packing themselves in the doorway like sardines when a small problem became apparent.

“Look,” Crow looked sideways at Synthia, “I don’t claim to be a math genius, but we have three beds.”

“That’s true,” Synthia stated.  “Well, four if you include the crate Terry prepared. And you may have to give that up if we find a stray cat and manage to convince our Iron Lady to let us keep it.”

“...You do realize there are seven of us, right?”

“Not necessarily,” she waved a hand dismissively. “Terry is switching with Ardy for late night driving, so he’ll be in suspended animation in the trailer. I’ll be taking the bunk on the left, and Jonah has already claimed the bottom bunk on the right, so Joel will be taking the top bunk. Easy as that!”

Crow glowered at her. “So you just didn’t plan on me or Gyps wanting a place to sleep?”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “You’re robots, you don’t need that stuff, right?”

The only response she received was a number of glares, many of them from individuals who by all right should not be capable of glaring. 

The clone groaned, throwing her hands up. “Ugh! Fine, maybe I’m the insensitive one. What can you do about it? We’re evil!”

Gypsum sighed. “I’ll just coil up in the main area. You’re lucky my body can serve as my own bedding.”

“Crow, you could always share a bunk with either of us,” Joel suggested. 

Crow rolled his eyes. “I’ll sleep on the couch. Servo, you wanna move your bed out with us and make it even?” 

“Depends. Synthia, do you snore?”

Synthia looked insulted by the accusation. “What would make you say that?”

Servo started pushing his crate along with his hoverskirt. “That’s a yes. Think one of you could help me with this?”

 

* * *

 

Servo was correct in his assumption; Synthia was a snorer. Despite this, it wasn’t the noise that kept Jonah awake. He didn’t think it was a lack of comfort, either; his bed felt fine, if a bit small, and Ardy’s driving was notably smoother than Terry’s earlier behavior.

No, Jonah recognized this state of restlessness from his first few days on the Satellite. He was simply overwhelmed by change. It wasn’t individual thoughts keeping him awake, his brain was just overworking itself, figuring out how to convince him that this was reality and it could become his new normal. His mind was trying so hard to process, encode, and organize information that it needed active reminders that such processes are easier when the body is asleep. With that, however, comes the subsequent worry that he  _ wouldn’t _ get to sleep, and the stress feeds back into the loop keeping him wide awake.

He’d already spent over half an hour lying there, staring at the bed above him and listening to the sounds of the empty highway when he spotted movement in the doorway to the bedroom. He snapped his eyes mostly shut upon recognizing the figure as Crow, preparing himself for some sort of prank to be pulled on himself or any one of the passengers. 

Apparently, his act was convincing, as Crow didn’t seem to recognize any threats in the room. The robot quietly stepped closer to Jonah’s bunk, fixing his gaze on him momentarily. Jonah braced himself for whatever he had planned.

Crow looked away and mounted the ladder up to Joel’s bunk. Jonah could hear a waking noise from the other Gizmocrat as Crow made it to the bed, then the sound of shuffling covers and a pair of hushed voices.

“I really did miss you, Joel.”

“I missed you too, Crow.”

Then there was nothing but the occasional sound of a passing car. Jonah released the tension in his body and finally drifted to sleep.


	5. We Built This City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Great news! My choice to name each chapter after a song that could be in a hypothetical road trip playlist only took a few chapters to make me throw my hands in the air and say "you know what, this has such little correlation to the actual chapter but I don't care." That's a new record for giving up. (I mean, I'm keeping the theme, but they won't all be winners.)

Synthia often considered her heavy sleeping habits as a blessing. Calling life in Moon 13 “taxing” is an understatement, but no less true than calling it “odd” or “hellishly chaotic.” The ability to sleep through a dinosaur outbreak or hazardous Kingachrome accident might be considered a danger to her self-preservation, but to date, none of these things had killed her, and she didn’t have to deal with all the hassle of being present for a catastrophe.

Today was different, she observed as she took in the view of the bus’ main cabin. Sure, she had slept through another catastrophe. But this time it was her responsibility to deal with it, and with her blood pressure rising the way it was, she wouldn’t be surprised if she ended up causing the next one.

“Joel. Jonah. Robots.”

All heads in the room turned to face her. She smiled, gritting her teeth.

_ “ Could one of you explain the absence of the microwave and the coffee maker?” _

The phrasing was to the point, but did not fully encapsulate the situation. It was fairly simple to tell where the appliances were if one were to consider the carefully organized mess of parts scattered the across the floor and seating. Jonah sat hunched over the gutted shell of the microwave, using the empty casing as a tiny worktable for his materials. He had been reaching for the toolbox that sat next to Joel on the couch, where the older man was tinkering with something resembling a satellite dish that had once been a coffee pot.

Crow was the first to return to his current task, turning his attention back to the array of cheesy tourism brochures he and Servo had spread out on the kitchen table.

“You left two crazy dedicated inventors alone in the same room together with a couple hours and some random electronics,” the golden robot stated with disinterest. “I don’t know what you expected to happen.”

Jonah was the next to speak. “Yeah, see, I had this great idea--”

“To destroy our microwave!?”

Joel gave the clone a disapproving look. “Let him finish.”

The moment of stunned silence from Synthia was enough of an invitation for Jonah to speak. “Right. So Joel and I were talking about the Satellite, and we thought it would be neat if we had a way to chat with Cambot. Then we realized that just about everything we needed was right here in the bus with us, and when Ardy stopped at the Welcome Center at the state border to swap shifts with Terry, he let us grab the toolbox from the trailer along with a couple of odds and ends.”

“Real nice guy,” Joel added.

Jonah nodded in agreement. “So at first I was just thinking we could modify the screen we used to talk to Kinga, so we could use it to send video feed to Cambot through the monitor we use to talk to the Mads on the Satellite of Love, but that would involve messing around with the liquid media, and it wouldn’t be worth the risk. So Joel said-- well, I mean, most of this is his idea, I don’t think I--”

Joel stood up, placing a hand on Jonah’s shoulder. The younger inventor looked like he might pass out from sheer excitement.

“ _ We _ decided to make a device to transmit a video signal on the same frequency the Hexfield picks up on the satellite. It’s not quite as direct as the initial idea, but getting it working would be the fun part. At first we were going to split our resources fifty-fifty and do it Invention Exchange style, but given the limited materials, it seemed like a better idea to collaborate.”

Synthia’s eye twitched, but she made no sound. Instead, she stalked past the pair of inventors to the front seat, wordlessly returning with a tablet in hand. After unlocking it, she thrust it in Joel’s face, violently pointing to the Skype icon.

Joel considered the device before him, vocalizing a small “hm” of consideration. “Well, where’s the fun in that?”

The tablet was swiftly yanked back as Synthia exhaled sharply through her nose, her teeth audibly grinding as she marched to the passenger’s seat.

“Terry, pull over at the next Starbucks. I can’t deal with this right now.”

“Okay, we should have time for that.”

“Great. I’ll check the schedule to see if there’s any time to drop by an appliance store later. We’ll have to deal with the fallout from her Mad-esty later.”

It only took a little over an hour before the prototype was complete, less than half the time that it would have taken either of the Gizmocrats to finish on their own. Just as two heads are better than one, four hands had been a definite advantage for assembling the device in record time, with three robotic mouths telling them to shut up and get cracking when their human companions got sidetracked by geeking out too much.

“So we’ve checked that it’s set to the right frequency?” Joel looked the device over as Jonah buzzed around the monitor, making sure the wires connecting the two were in place.

“Yep.”

“And the makeshift HDMI cable is secured?”

“Double-checked.”

Joel sat down on the bench facing the monitor, where Crow and Servo were quick to join on either side as Gypsum peeked over the back. “And the electromagnetic-”

“Get on with it!” Crow cut in.

“Alright then,” Jonah shrugged, turning the monitor on to a black screen with a blue  _ NO SIGNAL  _ in the center. He turned around and knelt down, pressing buttons and flicking small switches until the device hummed to life. He returned to his feet, taking a couple steps before a problem presented itself.

“Sorry Jonah,” Servo shook his head, “Bench’s full.”

Joel made a disapproving noise. “Now Tom, we can make room. Let’s squeeze together, okay?”

“Tom can go in your lap,” Gypsum pointed out. “That should save room.”

“Can I sit in Jonah’s lap?” Crow looked up expectantly.

“I see no reason why not,” Joel smiled as Servo settled atop his legs. “Right Jonah?”

The taller man nodded wordlessly, sitting down in the empty space.

Crow clambered for his new seat, giving Servo a smug look once he was settled. “My chair’s taller than yours.”

“Hey, I think it’s working!” Gypsum interjected.

Sure enough, the image on the monitor had changed. The error message had disappeared, replaced with a quiet buzz of static. The static vanished with a popping noise, and the group seated before the monitor recoiled slightly in confusion when the image became clear.

“It’s not supposed to just...show us, is it?”

Crow turned his head, his eyes glued to the mirror image presented onscreen, which mimicked the motions of all five figures seated around the bench. It was undoubtedly live video feed of the bus interior, with a slight delay echoing Crow’s words as they were spoken.

“Don’t tell me you’ve managed to bunk up the stream of time and space,” Servo addressed Joel and Jonah before turning his view back to the screen. “Hey! Stop copying me!”

Suddenly, the picture pulled back, revealing the familiar angular border of the Hexfield surrounding the mirrored image as the view broadened to the angle of the bridge typically used for filming host segments.

Jonah let out a sharp exhale of laughter, startling the robot on his lap. “You really had us confused for a second there, Cambot!”

The view zipped forward as the main door opened, the camera rushing through doors 6 and 5 before stopping to face the bathroom mirror. The image shook as Cambot bounced with happiness from their rail-mounted position, waving with one of the barn-door flaps affixed to the sides of their body.

“Cambot!” Joel grinned. “Wow, you’re looking great! Are you doing alright up there?”

The image bobbed as Cambot nodded, their extremities flapping happily.

“Well, I’m glad to see you too,” Joel nodded. “See, Jonah here had the idea to try to send up a signal to say hi to you.”

“I don’t know if-- well, I don’t think it’s fair to say it was my idea,” Jonah stammered. “I just-- I thought it would be nice, and, uh, if I got to work on a project with  _ Joel Robinson _ of all people, and… okay, I might be totally geeking out a little bit. But can you blame me?!”

The footage suddenly shifted up and down, as if the point of view had been pulled up, down, and back to center.

Joel pursed his lips. “Now don’t you roll your eye at us, bucko. Jonah’s doing his best.”

“I didn’t think about the possibility that we’d be spending the conversation looking through you,” Jonah said, fighting the blush creeping into his face at the compliment. “Great thinking with the mirror!”

Cambot’s left flap swung in and out, mimicking a dismissive “It was nothing” hand gesture. Joel raised a hand to his chin thoughtfully.

“That new body is pretty expressive,” he mused. “You liking Jonah’s handiwork?”

The image bobbed again, though with less intensity. Jonah rubbed the back of his neck.

“I can’t actually take credit for Cambot’s upgrade. That was, uh, Kinga. You know, with filming and… all that.”

Joel blinked in surprise. “Huh.”

“Whattaya mean, ‘huh’?” Crow eyed his creator. “That’s your big reaction to having a madwoman tampering with one of us?”

“Don’t you love us anymore!?” Servo cried.

Joel quickly put a hand on each of the sitting robots. “Hey, hey, you know that’s not-”

“Hey Cambot, what’s going on with the Viewscreen over here?”

The conversation was cut short when a new, distant voice became audible. The view swiveled and returned to the bridge, where a small green robot lounged by the console.

“Growler!” Jonah exclaimed, a warm smile spreading on his face. “How’s it going? You doing alright up there?”

The green bot turned away from Cambot, facing the screen. “Well hi, Jonah! I’m doing alright, I’ve been spending some time with Cambot. This place is so different when it’s quiet. Kinda nice.”

“Yeah, well don’t get used to it,” Servo said dryly. “We’ll be back soon enough.”

“And don’t touch our stuff, okay?” Crow added. “Just because we do it to you doesn’t mean this relationship is reciprocal.”

Joel stared at the screen thoughtfully, turning his head to Jonah “He’s yours?”

“Yeah, he stays out of the way most the time,” Crow cut in.

“He’s nice,” Gypsum added. “Tolerable. Good at piano.”

Joel sat back, smiling. “Well, that’s real great, I’m glad you guys are getting along so well. It’s good to see you guys being welcoming to a new robot.”

Everyone else in the immediate vicinity made a deliberate effort to avoid eye contact.

“...Joel?”

“Yeah Servo?”

“How much of the Netflix show did you end up watching?”

“Well, I had to skip around a little, but I watched at least up to episode six. Why?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

Jonah cleared his throat. “Uh, anyway, Growler, this… this is Joel Robinson, he’s touring with us. Kinga got him since he was the test subject for the first batch of experiments.”

“Nice to meetcha,” Growler nodded. “I’ve heard a lot about-”

The screen was suddenly overtaken by a flood of familiar violet bubbles. A collective groan came from those watching the screen.

“Oh come on!” Crow exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air (and, subsequently, Jonah’s glasses onto the floor). “Really?”

“I guess we couldn’t get away with it for long,” Jonah sighed, struggling to bend over to retrieve his glasses while avoiding the robot on his lap.

The bubbles cleared, revealing Kinga Forrester in all of her arms-crossed, pissed-off glory,

“Just  _ what _ do you think you’re doing?”

Joel answered first. “Oh, we thought we’d try and whip up some sort of communication signal to have a chat with Cambot. That’s all.”

An annoyed huff came from the front of the bus. “ _ They broke the kitchen!” _

“Nuh-uh!” Servo retorted. “They left the fridge and toaster alone!”

Kinga glared at the crew, seeming just as bewildered as she was irritated. “Haven’t you morons heard of  _ Skype _ ?”

“Yes!” Synthia shouted. “Exactly!”

“I don’t know if you thought this tour through,” Gypsum said, pushing forward between her human companions’ heads. “When your dad kidnapped Joel the first time, he decided to play God and create a bunch of robots. Now you’ve essentially kidnapped the creative power of two Joels and put them together in a supportive environment.”

Jonah shrank back, putting his glasses back on sheepishly. “Well, I don’t know if I’d be considered a second  _ Joel… _ ”

“Yeah, who do you think you’re kidding?” Crow jabbed.

Kinga blinked in a staged gesture of apparent surprise. “Kidnapped? I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“You trapped me on the moon and sung about it. Then you forced me reenact it and help you sing about it thirteen more times. And then you knocked me out and put me on a bus.”

The mad scientist made a dismissive gesture. “Me, me, me. Is that all you can think about? I mean, duh, I kidnapped you. That’s not really up for debate.”

“Then what are you trying to get at?” Gypsum snapped.

Kinga cast a smug stare at Joel. “So you haven’t told them, huh? I don’t blame you.”

All eyes (plus one clear plastic dome) went to the older Gizmocrat.

“Joel?” Crow set a hand on his creator’s leg. His voice lacked its typical sharpness.

Joel shrugged with nonchalance. “Kinga approached me with an opportunity to go on tour. You think I’d turn down an opportunity to go on the road with you guys?”

“See?” Kinga gave her best game show smile. “My hands are clean. Well, mostly. You’re all very much still in my clutches with no chance of escape. Now, if you would please stick to more conventional forms of communication and leave the rest of the bus intact, I am a very busy overlord and have better things to do than intercept phone calls.”

“Hey Kinga!” Max’s voice shouted from somewhere offscreen. “It’s your turn to read the green card! You can’t just walk out on Apples to Apples when we’re three rounds in!”

Kinga grimmanced. “I can and will!”

“Okay, but Bonehead #435 is gonna steal your cards if you don’t come back.”

Kinga groaned in frustration before the screen faded into bubbles, then to black.


End file.
